“Each Morn a thousand Roses brings…”
Omar Khayyam
Early summer in the valley has been all about the roses. A mild winter, lots of rain and a proper spring that didn’t turn hot right away have produced a profusion of roses. Some of these I had forgotten about as they rarely seemed to bloom. Their foliage blends into the landscape and I learned over the years to not expect much from them. But it appears that they were just waiting for the right conditions to put on a show.
The first rose that took me by surprise is an unknown (to me anyway) species shrub rose that I was given years ago. It has only bloomed about once a decade and is usually an unfortunate bug magnet. This year, however, the bugs stayed away and it’s covered with small single pink very fragrant blooms. Only inertia prevented me from getting rid of this one. I’m glad now that I left it alone. Sometimes laziness has its rewards.
Photo supplied.
Common Ground Columnist Jill Williams shared her gardening expertise at the Community Garden during last month’s Blocks and Blooms event.
In the wild garden there are two rugosas that I planted decades ago. They had never thrived or bloomed. Until this year. Really this takes having to be patient to a whole new level. One of these roses is possibly Hansa which is found around old farms and is usually huge. Why it never took off here is a mystery. This year it has produced a bunch of very double, purple fragrant blooms. Wonders never cease.
Also in the wild garden one species lily has turned into four species lilies. They are not close together and two are growing in the edge of the lawn. And the original one that I planted seems to have moved. How did this happen? I have no idea and I have learned not to question the mysterious movement of lilies. The flowers are glorious and I just leave it at that.
One of the most beautiful of the Victorian cottage garden flowers, the opium poppy, is the tallest I have ever seen it this year. Several of these growing beside the house are about four feet tall. They’re single pale pink and came originally from an old farm in Hope Township. These are the first of the opium poppies to bloom. Double red and pink will follow although these haven’t grown to the same height.
I have been asked a few times about the difference between ornamental rhubarb and garden rhubarb. So I looked it up in a very useful reference book, The Encyclopedia of Herbs and Herbalism edited by Malcolm Stuart. There was lots to learn here. Many books on cottage gardening describe rhubarb as originally medicinal and I was curious to sort that out.
It turns out that garden rhubarb (Rheum rhabarbarum) was apparently introduced to western Europe in 1608 and was first cultivated at Padua in botanic gardens. That‘s the rhubarb that everyone has and the one that we eat. Medicinal rhubarb (Rheum officinale) has been used in Chinese medicine since around 2700 B.C. and has been imported into Europe since the time of the early Greeks. The name rhubarb comes the description by Dioscorides of the drug it produced as rheon or rha. So it turns out that medicinal rhubarb and garden rhubarb are not the same plant. Before I looked it up I thought that garden rhubarb was originally medicinal which it was not. So good thing I looked it up. When in doubt look it up….
Ornamental rhubarb (Rheum palmatum) was introduced to European gardens in 1763. It comes from Western China. The variety that I have is Rheum palmatum Atrosanguineum. The name means dark blood red. Mine has only flowered once since I planted it and it certainly has a very impressive flower. I live in hope that it will flower this year.
Finally, three baby phoebes flew away from the side porch on the sixteenth of June. There should have been four but for one egg that was pushed out of the nest and smashed on the porch floor. This particular phoebe is not the smartest bird in the flock. Before nest construction started, it flew in the front door. It flew back and forth between the top of the fridge and the top of the open front door for what felt like a long time.
I was very glad for the sake of the phoebe that this old house has a door between the living room and the summer kitchen. When the bird flew in the house I managed to scoop up two cats and put them in the summer kitchen and close the door. The phoebe survived and I finally managed to catch it and release it outside.
Last year’s phoebe had a first family of four and a second of five. The second family flew away in the middle of July. I’m hoping that this particular phoebe won’t come back for a repeat performance. We will see what happens.
Happy summer everyone.
By Jill Williams